Touta Matsuda's Paradox
by Hatterdale
Summary: Touta Matsuda spent five years previous to joining the Japanese Police Force studying anthropology in Washington D.C., with the hopes of expanding his knowledge. Two of those years he spent working under Doctor Temperance Brennan, as an intern. Later, when working under L, Touta's suggestion allows them to meet once more. (Full summary inside. Not Matsuda/Brennan -o-' Gosh people.)
1. Prologue

Summary;

Touta Matsuda spent five years previous to joining the Japanese Police Force studying anthropology in Washington D.C., with the hopes of expanding his knowledge (Fat chance.) Two and a half of those years he spent working under Doctor Temperance Brennan, as an intern after Zack was locked away in a mental institution. Later, when working under L, they cross paths once more, with Touta's suggestion that Brennan and her team be called in. With little but charred bones and bashed brains left in the killer's wake, L has no choice but to consider Matsuda's comment seriously. –This story takes place right before the Kira case, which suggests that Matsuda was already undercover for L in the Japanese Police Force before he 'officially' joined with him to stop Light Yagami. Also suggesting that the pretence of him being an idiot is simply an act :)-

Prologue;

"Miss Nichols, you are under arrest for the murder of Dakota Race."

Such words were liberating and exciting to the young intern of Doctor Temperance Brennan, whom stood beside the genius, brown eyes sparkling with a great deal of interest. He had always loved the justice system and how everything seemed to fall into either one category or another. Good or evil. Order; he loved order, for it was one thing he was not. That was another reason he admired Doctor Brennan; she was practically a statue when she wanted to be, logical and proud, never shaken by anything.

The woman that was being carted away for murder did have a point, though. She had killed her fiancé, Dakota Race, for cheating on her with a _man_ of all things. It could be considered as a crime of passion, the logical side of his head reasoned. He shook off his thoughts, mentally berating himself. He hated that about himself; always able to see both sides of the spectrum. He watched the woman of just twenty walk out of the interrogation room, angry red tear streaks running down her alabaster cheeks. It made his heart falter with pity; the poor girl wouldn't last long in prison, he'd seen some of the inmates there. Still, he turned to his mentor and her partner, Seeley Booth, with his usual naïve smile.

"You two are truly amazing," he complimented them, his suit crinkling as he straightened up. Seeley flashed him a confident smile from behind his partner, though giving him a warning glance as though to tell him not to get 'too close' to her. Touta assumed that, because of this vibe he usually got, that Booth might secretly harbour feelings for his partner, making him a liability. He laughed nervously under the FBI agents gaze and reached into his suit pocket for his papers, handing them over for the forensic anthropologist to sign. That was when it hit him, like a bus to an unsuspecting deer. He was leaving…. Tomorrow. Touta Matsuda watched the doctor sign him off from his position of study, handing the neatly folded paper and fountain pen over to him. He took them with shaking fingers, swallowing thickly, with an uneasy smile.

"Thank you, you've been a great help to us," Brennan relayed to him in the cool tone of voice she used with everyone, with the exception of Doctor Sweets. She really didn't like psychology, at all, and thus didn't really care for Sweets either. He couldn't blame her though, what with the psychologist prodding and poking at her past every time he saw her, like she was merely an interesting specimen and not a human being. In fact, he looked at her much in the same way Hodgins looked at bugs and slime. It revolted him. The mousy brown haired man nodded in appreciation, fingering his key card, before he turned to leave for the lab. He had to return the key card, after all; not to mention he couldn't leave without seeing the team one last time.

His footsteps echoed in his own ears, as his shoes clacked against the porcelain tile of the Jeffersonian's floors. Every other sound was muted; he was really leaving. He was finally going home; home to nothing. He was used to being alone though, no one could stand him, really. He approached Cam's office, a hand shakily reaching out to knock on the cloudy glass door. He gulped quietly when the door opened and he was ushered into the room, a smile upon his lips, though he honestly thought he was going to vomit.

"Touta," she greeted in a curt voice, a smile spreading across her dark lips. Despite having always been kind to the dark haired man, he couldn't help but be the slightest bit frightened by her. He held out his key card to the pathologist, a mousy smile on his face.

"It was a pleasure working with you," he humoured her, as she took the key from him, placing it in her desk. Her smile widened, the corners of her eyes crinkling as a small chuckle passed through her lips.

"As it was working with you," she assured him, gesturing for him to follow her out of the office. The sound of Cam's heels on the cold floor resonated off of the walls in the hallway, as Matsuda followed behind her diligently. "We have a last minute assignment for you, before you go."

A last minute assignment? Touta internally groaned, as they reached the observational deck near the centre of the lab. There he was greeted by all of his colleagues from the lab, including Booth. Hodgins grinned at him in a snarky manner, standing next to him.

"King of the lab," he muttered to the intern offhandedly, ignoring the glare he got from Angela as a result. Angela then rolled her eyes at the curly haired entomologist, before embracing Touta as a goodbye.

"We're going to miss you, Sweetie," she smiled. She was always the 'best-dressed' in the lab, if such a title was to be awarded. Matsuda smiled down at her insisting that he'd miss all of them as well.

"What's my assignment?" He asked finally, after a long conversation about the dangers of traveling by plane, that Zack had oh so generously supplied them with. He dreaded what might come out of Cam's mouth, but was surprised when she just handed him a stack of papers.

"These are our email addresses, phone numbers, and mailing addresses," she stated, as he took hold of them. He blinked owlishly at them all, before grinning like an idiot. So this really wasn't a goodbye forever!

"You'll have to write to us every day," chided Angela, playfully winking at him. "So don't lose the papers."

Touta laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head, a dusting of pink spreading across his cheeks. "I can't promise anything."


	2. Two Years Later

-Two Years Later-

It seemed endless. The rain, that is; not that his work ever seemed to ease up either, though. It came down in buckets, the clear, cold liquid trickling into gutters and down onto the ground. It pelted all whom dared to be outside, loud kurplunks echoing off of their windbreakers and umbrellas. However, umbrellas were hardly practical in this sort of weather, for the wind lashed about throwing the water in all sorts of directions; it was truly one of those horrible days. Children at the crosswalk down the street stuck to their guardians' sides like parasites, clutching onto their coats, shivering and sneezing.

A sigh passed through his lips as he stared out of the window next to his desk. Brown eyes watched as a young couple walked out of sight, clutching onto each other like their lives depended on it. They seemed to be laughing about something, though he couldn't be sure from his current point of view. In all honesty Touta hadn't had a decent date, or a date at all for that matter, in a long time. He leant back in his office chair, ignoring the squeak of protest it gave off. He needed something to distract him from all of this; something interesting.

Matsuda had started to doze off in his _very_ comfortable chair, when the sound of someone sitting down heavily snapped him out of it. Said person stretched, yawning rather loudly; much to the annoyance to those officers that had been put on desk duty. The chair the burly man sat on groaned and whined in protest as he moved, throwing out all of Touta's hopes of catching any sleep.

"Hey, shouldn't you be finishing your work?" A familiar voice questioned the young officer.

"It's already done," Touta lied through his teeth, eyes peeling themselves open. The man sitting at the desk across from him was none other than Kanzo Mogi, a colleague of his for a few years now. The taller man stared at the mousey officer incredulously, before shaking his head.

"Dig up any dirt yet?" Touta asked, sitting up straight in his chair. He hadn't been out in the field yet, much to his displeasure. The dark haired boy had only a limited knowledge on the case, as he wasn't part of the official force in charge of it. The murders seemed interesting though, almost interesting enough to-

"Not yet," Mogi interrupted his thoughts, with a sigh. "Two more girls dead, though."

He folded his large hands behind his head, reclining in his chair. Matsuda frowned slightly, disappointed by the news. The murders had started a few weeks ago, around the beginning of April. The first victim was female; Akane Chikafuji, seventeen years old. She was found in an alleyway with her throat cut and a jagged gash in her abdomen. The second victim, Midori Nakatani, was found a lot less human, however. Her skin seemed to have been torn off of her body, muscle, bone, and sinew exposed to the world, organs splayed out randomly around her body. This girl was sixteen, so there seemed to be no connection in age, nor any proof that it was one person committing the murders.

"…How were they found?" he asked curiously, listening closely for details.

"The first was Etsu Satobayashi; her body was found hung upside-down by her left ankle, throat slit," Mogi relayed to him, with distain. "She most likely choked on her own blood before she had a chance to bleed out."

Matsuda grimaced at the thought of dying in such a ghastly way, face paling ever so slightly. What sort of sick person did that to people? Principally to people too young to have died of natural causes, unless terminally ill from something cancerous.

"The second was Chinatsu Edogawa; her head was split open, certain areas of her brain scattered around her apartment," the larger male continued.

None of it made any sense to Touta, but that was rather common of him. If the detectives weren't finding anything, though…

God, he was glad he wasn't a female.

Checking the time on his watch, Matsuda breathed a sigh of relief. He'd only an hour left of duty tonight, before he could return to the comfort of his one-bedroom apartment. By then, he hoped, the rain would let up a bit. For, as stupid as it sounded, Touta hadn't bothered to take an umbrella with him to work, despite his neighbour's suggestion and his own feeling of dread.

On the bright side; he'd had just enough time to buy himself a coffee before he got to the dispatch. Then again, the last thing he needed now was a cold…

Touta bit the inside of his lip pensively, hesitantly starting to speak. "Is there any connection between them, aside from their sex?"

Mogi shook his head in a disgruntled manner. "No, but we're still looking through the victims' phone and credit card records; perhaps we'll find something there."

The man's tone rose to a hopeful one towards the end of his answer, indicating that he didn't enjoy working with the slaughter of young women. There were many police on the force assigned to the case worried for their own families' safety. Perhaps an opening would make itself present to him?

A ding from his computer, alerting him of a new email, brought his attention back to the outdated piece of _technology._

He quickly opened up the document, ignoring Mogi whom was presently hovering over his shoulder, eyes scanning over the name with a smile. The email was from one Jack Hodgins, an old acquaintance of his from his time at the Jeffersonian. After he had left, the team had sent him email after email about what had happened while he was gone.

Dr. Brennan had written a book and was, according to Dr. Sweets, 'in denial' about her feelings for Booth. Angela and Hodgins were currently together, even though Sweets had managed to break them up at one point. Though, an added note had said that Angela and Hodgins couldn't get married, for Angela had 'jumped over a stick' in a foreign country, which was apparently a marriage ritual. Unfortunately, not all of the news was funny, nor was it smile inducing. A few months ago, Matsuda had received a distressed email from Hodgins, the very man emailing him now, about Zack, Dr. Brennan's assistant, being locked away in a mental asylum for aiding a psycho killer in the murder of a lobbyist.

This new email, upon being read, had information on a new assistant, one to replace Zack. His name was Vincent Nigel-Murray, seeming to be the new favourite of Doctor Brennan, even though his thoughts seemed to freeze up on the occasion, resulting in his spewing of fact, barely, if not even, relative to the case at hand. Jack also mentioned that he was English; a graduate of the University of Leeds.

He quickly replied with words of good luck to be passed on to the new assistant and an update of his own life; which was exceedingly less exciting at the moment, complaining about the rain for a little while, before sending it off to D.C..

"A friend of yours?" Inquired Mogi, with the raise of a thick eyebrow.

"Yes, I used to work with him at the Jeffersonian," Touta replied with a sigh, "When I was more interested in anthropology and less into homicide."

He ignored the widened eyes of his co-worker, who hadn't known of his past dwindling in other departments and interests, instead packing up his things. He was going to leave early, so he could pick up something for dinner on his way home. Honestly, Matsuda was tired of convenience store meals, which didn't sit well with him at all and he often regretted eating around five minutes after he finished them. He sighed, tugging on his dark, double-breasted jacket, before picking up his briefcase and starting out of the office. Unfortunately for him, the rain hadn't let up at all, leaving the mousey man no choice but to run to his car with his poor briefcase over his head, instead allowing the water to run down his arms and splash down into his shoes. Hastily unlocking the car, he threw everything in his hands onto the passenger seat, before plopping himself down with a resigned sigh.

The car started after two tries with his keys, the damn thing on its death bed already after a year of being used. The noise was that of a sickly cat's yelp, before it finally leveled out into a loud whirr. Not much of an improvement, if you asked him. The vehicle whined in protest as he drove out onto the main road, getting stuck in traffic, nonetheless.

-Needless to say, Touta didn't arrive home until half-past seven, around the time he usually went to sleep. A groan passed through the man's lips as he sat down with a huff on his sofa, rubbing his shoulder. His meal was quite simple really; a small bowl of miso soup. It surely wasn't his favourite, but it was fast, and so he'd gotten it without a second thought. Now, there he was, gulping down the food apathetically, barely stopping to take in air until he'd finished it. Dragging himself through the kitchen, only stopping to toss away the plastic bowl his meal had come in, Matsu made his way into his bedroom, where he promptly collapsed; tired as hell.

"There are two kinds of people who sit around trying to think of ways to kill people; psychopaths and mystery writers. I'm the kind that pays better." –Richard Castle; Castle.

^Applies to me as well, my lovelies. Sorry for the wait, I had to complete finals and such before I could post this.


End file.
